Page 339 of Redeemed

When Colton finally stops, he stares down at his crotch. Based on the way Haven bites the inside of her cheek, I think she’s worried he’ll be disgusted, but instead he looks up at her and grins.

“Knew you could do it.” He kisses her, and his lips move against hers softly, reverently. “That was beautiful, angel.”

“More.” Haven palms Colton’s cock through his shorts. “I want all of you.”

“No.” Colton is panting, and it looks like it’s taking all his willpower and then some to push her hand away. “Not yet.”

I’m sure she’s about to protest, but after a second of indecision, she nods.

“You’re probably right,” she admits. “I just…”

“We miss it, too, doll.” Xander fixes her dress so she’s covered again. “But our priority is keeping you safe. From others, from us,andfrom yourself.”

That makes her go soft, and she pulls him in for a kiss. When he leans back, Haven’s eyes are glassy.

Hoping it’ll give her some sort of comfort, I slide my hand up and down her back. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” she whispers, but a tear falls onto her cheek.

Colton frowns, and his clean hand comes up to thumb it away. “You’re crying.”

“They’re good tears,” she croaks out. “I—I just don’t know what I’d do without you three. God, I’d be dead without you. I love you. All of you.” She makes sure to glance at me, and then at Xander, before returning her gaze back to Colton. “Thank you.”

Frowning, Colton shakes his head. “You don’t have to thank us.”

“You saved me,” she says as another tear falls. “You may have broken me, but you kept your promise. You three put me back together, and you’re doing it again now. I… I’d be lost without you.”

“Pretty sure we’d be lost without you, too, doll,” Xander says. He nudges her chin so she’s looking at him. “And we love you, too.”

Haven glances between the three of us again, and despite her tears, there’s hope in her eyes. She even smiles a little.

We’re still a long, long way off from her full recovery, but I can see it. With every improvement, no matter how small, a little more life returns to Haven’s eyes. Slowly, she’s finding her way back to herself—back to us. And with every day, she moves a little further away from Cornerstone’s reach.

Colton

July

‎

I finish my last phone call for the day and stand from my desk. With a hopeful expression, Haven glances up from the coloring book she’s working on.

“Done?” she asks.

“I am.”

She smiles as I crouch in front of her cage and unlock it. When I open the door, she crawls out and directly into my arms.

Sometime in mid-June, Haven asked me to put her cage in my office. I didn’t expect it, but Haven having time inside it while I work has helped her significantly.

When she finds herself back at Cornerstone, locking herself away signals to her mind that no one is expecting anything from her. She doesn’t have to cook or clean or serve or have babies. She’s just Haven. It’s like a reset for her.

It keeps her close to me, too, which I don’t mind. Charlotte was right—Haven is more resilient than I gave her credit for—but I still worry about her. I think I always will. She’s been through too much for me to not.

“So we can go?” Haven asks, eyes bright.

I nod. “Go get changed. I’ll be right behind you.”

When I brought up the idea of taking Haven out on my bike, I was sure she’d say no, but she didn’t even hesitate. So she picked out a helmet and some gear, and everything came in yesterday.

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